The following story contains graphic descriptions of torture, violence, and snuff of women. All actions in this story are carried out by highly trained fictional characters. Attempting any of them in real life will get you arrested, imprisoned, or forced to write a 1000 word essay on the Nihilism in the Works of L Frank Baum. The story is copyrighted by The Chairman 2005. It may not be reposted without permission from the author. For permission, contact the author at chairman hyphen bdsmlibrary a-t scubed dot org. This story is dedicated to a special fan. For those still with me, enjoy!
Juicing Jeanne Jeanne stood in front of the office. She was a bit nervous. She had never, obviously, done anything like this before. But what the hell, she thought. Gathering her nerve, she walked in. She didn't know what she expected to see, but what she saw looked like the offices of an investment banker. There was a quiet, well-furnished lobby. On the back wall, opposite the doors, was the receptionist's desk. Over the desk, in understated lettering was the name of the establishment, "Wilson and Carruthers". The receptionist herself would not have looked out of place in an investment bankers office, either. She was young, attractive, and well-dressed, in a conservative but still flattering ladies grey suit. She looked at Jeanne, smiled pleasantly, and said, "Welcome to 'Wilson and Carruthers'. How may I assist you?" "Well, next week is my boyfriend's thirtieth birthday, and..." "You wanted to get him something really special," the receptionist finished her sentence. "Exactly." "Well, Miss?" "Jeanne. Jeanne Malone." "Right. Well, Miss Malone, if you'll have a seat over there", she pointed to a nice leather couch, "I'll see who has some time to consult with you." "Thank you," she answered, and took a seat. She watched as the receptionist murmured into the phone, listened, and finally hung up. "Mr. Carruthers will be with you shortly." Indeed, but thirty seconds passed before a door in the side of the lobby opened. Out stepped a handsome man, in his mid-40s. His hair was still black, and short, though he was greying at the temples. His eyes were brown, and he was tall, but solidly built, like a retired football player. He walked up to Jeanne, smiled, held out his hand, and in a deep voice said, "Hello, Miss Malone, I'm Malcolm Carruthers. I understand you are looking to give your boyfriend a special birthday present?" "Yes, Mr. Carruthers, I am. And please, call me Jeanne." "I will. In return, know that my friends call me Malcolm, or Mal, and since I am sure we will become friends, you shall too. If you will follow me to my office, I will be glad to discuss your options with you, and see if we can help you find what you're looking for." She rose, and followed him down the hall, into a lavishly appointed office that, once again, would not have looked out of place in a bank. He seated himself behind the solid oak desk, and she sat in the plush leather wingback chair in front of the desk. "Now, Jeanne," he began, "I am assuming you want this to be a surprise. Is that right?" "Yes, it is." "Okay, well, we have two possibilities. We can do it here, or we can do it at his place. There is an additional charge if we come out there, but it does make it easier to surprise him." "What is this going to cost?" "Here is our price sheet, listing some of our package deals, as well as our a la carte pricing." He handed her a simple printed page. It read as follows: Basic Package: 20 minutes electrocution Carcass rights Total: N/C Deluxe Package: 30 minutes electrocution At home 1 Suck & fuck slut Trophy head Clitorectomy Video rights Carcass rights Total: N/C Basic Party Package: 15 minutes electrocution At Home 4 Fuck & suck sluts Trophy head Total: $3,000 2 Girl Party Package: 20 minutes electrocution each At Home 3 Fuck & suck sluts 2 Trophy heads 2 Clitorectomies Video rights Carcass rights Total: N/C A la carte: Basic: Electrocution $100/minute Extras: At home $250 Suck & fuck slut $250/ea Trophy head $250 Clitorectomy $250 Rebates: Video rights $2,000 Carcass rights $2,000 She read the page with interest. "Could you explain these to me?" she asked. "Well, it's quite simple, really. We'll start with the a la carte pricing. Basically, if you purchase 20 minutes of electrocution, we guarantee that you will 'ride the lightning' for at least 20 minutes. We also guarantee that you will be snuffed any where from zero to ten minutes after the time you have purchased, so that price is for a minimum time. Next, 'at home' means we will set up our equipment at your location. It can be a home, or an office, or indeed, anywhere you wish." "Suck and fuck sluts are just girls who will suck or fuck the watchers in any way requested. A 'trophy head' is where we have your head stuffed and mounted, with a nice brass name and date plaque as a memento mori. The clitorectomy is strictly for extra cruelty, to ensure that the snuffette can't orgasm as she is snuffed." "Finally, the rebates are simple. We will rebate up to $2,000 if you give us unlimited rights to tape, broadcast, rent, sell, or in any other way distribute your electrocution. We will rebate up to $2,000 if you give us the right to dispose of your carcass; that is, to skin you for leather, to butcher you for meat, and so on. Note that the rebates will never result in cash back to you, only to offset the costs of your chosen options." "The packages simply group some of our most popular selections together for your convenience. There is no difference in price based on whether you shop a la carte or take a package deal. Does that help?" "Yes, thank you," she replied. "I have just one more question. Suppose I choose the deluxe package, and my boyfriend (after he finds out about it) decides that he wants my carcass, or doesn't want my electrocution broadcast to the entire world?" "Well, if he wishes to repay the rebated amount for either, he is welcome to do so, in which case he can reclaim the associated rights." "Terrific. Then I would like to get the deluxe package, scheduled for next Saturday." "Next Saturday? Let me just check our schedule. Hmm, we have two appointments currently for Saturday morning, but right now, any time after noon is free. Any preferences?" "Well, a group of his friends are taking him to the local college football game at 2PM, then planning to bring him back home for a party. So I'd like to be set up and ready to go by about 5PM, though I don't know the exact time he'll get home." "No problem. But have you considered the two girl party package? It would be a better deal for your boyfriend and his friends." "Maybe. I have a friend I could ask. But you know, I wanted this to be all about me. I don't want him having to decide whom to watch fry." "Well, for the two girl package, you have the option of being electrocuted together, or one at a time." "Really? Well, put me down for that, then, and I will get another girl. Thank you very much. This will make my boyfriend very happy." "We aim to please. Now, I just need you to fill out some paperwork here, and then take this form to your friend, get her to sign it, and bring it back." "Okay, but what I am signing?" "This is a contract, authorising us to come to the address you specify, at the date and time you specify, and process the two girls you name. This other form is simply a standard termination warrant, giving us permission to snuff you at that time. Your friend will need to sign one as well. Finally, we need about an hour to set up at his place, so if you could call us when you are ready, and no later than half-past three, we will come get everything taken care of." Fifteen minutes later, Jeanne was done, and on her way home. Of course, her doubts began to eat at her. Had she done the right thing? Would her friend Keren agree? Would her boyfriend appreciate what she had done? Of course, other than Keren, it was too late for second thoughts now. She had already signed the termination warrant. She was a "dead girl walking". *** That afternoon, Jeanne went to see Keren. Keren had been her best friend for years. Jeanne had stood up for Keren at her wedding, six months ago. That was a sad memory. Not the wedding, that had been great, but the drunk asshole who had lost control of his car, killing Keren's husband barely three months into the marriage, ending it forever. And of course, he had been young, and thought himself immortal, and hadn't taken the time to plan for an accidental or untimely death. No funeral plot for himself, and no snuff contract for Keren. Usually a husband would buy a snuff contract for his wife, such that if he predeceased her, or she wanted a divorce, or even just hit the age he specified, she would be snuffed, rather than left to cope with the loss of her husband. As it was, she was left lost and rudderless. Jeanne knew that if she asked Keren to participate, she would. And so it proved. There were some more preparations to go through - touching up their crotch waxing was no hassle, Malcolm Carruthers had provided her with the address of a top dollar beauty parlor which did it for free for prospectives snuffettes - it was excellent publicity, after all. The rest of the week passed with agonising slowness, and yet, at the same time, with amazing rapidity. On Saturday, Keren came over to "keep Jeanne company while the menfolk went to the game." The afternoon passed with a mixture of great haste, and agonising slowness. On the one hand, they had only a few hours of life remaining to them, and yet, three-thirty seemed never to come. Finally, it was time. She called W&C. They promised that the crew would be over by four. At three-fifty, there was a knock at the door. When Jeanne answered, she saw a heavy-set man of middle years, with long red-brown hair and a long red-brown beard. He said, "Hi. I'm Andy. I'm the technician who will be supervising your termination today. Are you Jeanne?" "Yes, and this," she pointed, "is my friend Keren." "Great to meet you. Now if you'll just show us where you want to set up, we'll bring our stuff in and get ready." "I was thinking about setting up in the den at the back of the house. It should be big enough." "So long as you have room for the equivalent of two oversized recliner chairs, it will be big enough." "No problem, then." She led Andy back to the den. He looked around, decided it would be big enough, and excused himself to go back to the truck to get his gear. The return party consisted of Andy and three very naked girls, obviously regular customers at the beauty parlor. Andy and the blonde were wheeling in one large box, while the redhead and the brunette brought an identical box. "Jeanne, Keren, I'd like to introduce you to the fuck-and-suck sluts. They are Judy," pointing to the blonde, "Kathleen," the redhead, "and Lisa," he pointed to the brunette. "They will also be helping me set up. Now, let me just see," he checked his work log, "we are doing Keren first, correct? Followed by you?" "That's correct," Jeanne answered. "Great, let's just get you two strapped into the chairs, then." As he spoke, the girls had been unfolding and setting up the contents of one of the boxes. In a matter of moments, there was an interesting electric chair set up. This was not the electric chair portrayed in movies. This looked more like a bondage chair. The "seat" consisted of two narrow platforms that angled away from the back. Clearly it was intended to keep the snuffette's legs widely spread. The legs had straps to attach her legs to. A girl sitting in this chair would have her cunt on clear display, easily accessible. In a like way, the arms were flat out to the sides. When a girl was strapped in, her arms would be held out like a crucifixion victim. There was a collar to hold her neck immobile, and straps to anchor her torso. Thus her tits were also on display, and available for any use or abuse one cared to subject her to, and she would have no ability to hinder her tormentors access to any part of her body, nor to deny them any view of her suffering beauty they might desire. Andy called Keren over to the first chair. "Let's just get you strapped in, and calibrate the chair. After all, we promised them at least a twenty minute ride for you, and we aim to please." Keren was quickly strapped in to the chair. Andy stopped to admire her figure. She had long black hair that fell in waves about her lovely face, and tried unsuccessfully to hide her large tits. Her legs were short, and didn't even reach the floor when she was strapped in, and of course, were completely unable to hide her smooth-shaven cunt. She was lovely. She squeaked when Andy forced the dildo electrodes into her cunt and asshole. "Get ready, now," he told her, "we're going to run some current through you, to help set the levels." He started with a fairly low level, just enough to make her grunt with pleasure. He slowly increased the juice, until her grunts turned into cries for him to stop. Finally, he increased it to a level that brought a full-throated scream from her. "That, my dear," he told her, "was a level seven shock. An eight is ten times worse, a nine one hundred times more painful. As for a ten, well, that is what will finally kill you. And remember, my job is to make sure that you scream your head off for the full twenty minutes. Jeanne, let's get you prepped." So saying, he strapped her into the other chair. She was every bit as lovely as Keren. A blonde with tits that were made to be abused, and judging from the marks, both recent and faded, had been on many past occasions. Her bald cunt-lips stood proud, and her clit was quite large. Andy decided it warranted an electrode all of its own. Granted, she wouldn't be keeping it, but he would enjoy torturing it during the calibration. He ran her through the same calibration sequence he had just run Keren through, with similarly pleasing results. He then spent a few minutes setting up the cameras, and re-ran the calibration sequence for both girls, allowing him to check lighting and sound. He finally pronounced himself satisfied. "Okay, girls, you are just about ready to fry. Just one more question. Do you want me to do your clitorectomies now, or wait for your boyfriend? The advantage of doing them now is that you are ready to fry the moment he gets home. The advantage to doing them when he is here is that he gets to see you suffering. And he will. I like to destroy the clit slowly and painfully. Often, my clients have told me that their clitorectomies hurt more than their electrocutions." "We definitely want him to enjoy every moment of our suffering," Jeanne answered without hesitation. "Wait on the clitorectomies for him." "You got it," he answered. Just then, there was the sound of a car in the driveway. Jeanne looked at the clock. It was quarter-to-five, and the game must have ended early. Sure enough, they all soon heard, "Hey, babe! We're home." "We're out in the den, dear," Jeanne answered. "Come on back. I have your birthday present here." Three guys traipsed back into the den, her boyfriend in the lead. They were chatting about the game until they saw what awaited them. They all stopped dead. "What the-?" he started to ask. "Well," Jeanne answered, "I noticed how much you enjoyed watching Sam electrocute his wife last month for their five year anniversary, so I decided to get you the same gift. Keren and I will 'ride the lightning' for you." "Here's the deal. Keren will go first. She will be electrically tortured for at least twenty minutes. Sometime in the ten minutes following that, her torture will be increased to lethal levels. After she is done, I will get the same treatment." "Judy, Kathleen, and Lisa are available for any or all of you to use during our electrocutions. The only limitations on their use is no marking, maiming, or disfiguring. Basically, nothing that will prevent them from being used the same way again tomorrow." "Finally, Andy here will be recording our demise. This recording will belong to Winston and Carruthers. However, you can buy the rights from them if you desire, and regardless, you will receive a free copy of it for your own viewing. Similarly, they have the right to dispose of our carcasses, though again, you can buy the right from them. However, you will be getting both of our heads, trophy-mounted." "That's fantastic, babe!" he exclaimed. "How did you afford this?" "By giving them recording rights and carcass rights. If you guys want to sit down," she gestured toward the couch that was set up to provide a ringside seat, "we can get started." The men sat, and without a word, Lisa, Kathleen, and Judy ran over and knelt in front of the men. Each girl unbuttoned her chosen guy's trousers, and set to work sucking his cock. Andy walked over to Keren, and said, "Before she begins her ride, I am going to slowly and painfully destroy her clit, to ensure that she receives absolutely no pleasure during her suffering." He began by teasing her clit into full, erect arousal. He then picked up a pair of scissors. "These are razor-sharp," he explained, "and I am going to use them to snip off just the very tip of your clit. Then I will again snip off just the tip of what remains, and I will repeat the process until I get to the base, at which point I will use this cigarette lighter to sear the wound closed." He proceeded to do just that, and her screams were horrific. Jeanne was trembling where she sat, knowing that she faced the same fate, and further knowing that she volunteered both herself and Keren for this treatment. Finally Andy finished trimming off Keren's clit, and picked up the lighter. He flicked it alight, and while using one hand to hold her cunt lips parted, he used the other to bring the lighter to the bloody stump where her clit had been, and held it there. Her screams were music to the ears of the men watching, and forewarning to Jeanne. Finally he was finished. Actually, he probably singed her more than was necessary, just for fun. He walked over the control console and pushed the button. Keren immediately went rigid. Every muscle in her body was locked in an electrically induced rigor. She seemed incapable of making the slightest sound, and then the current was kicked up a level. She discovered she still had the ability to scream after all. And so it went, for five minutes, then ten. Fifteen minutes passed, and she still had the strength and breath to scream. Her agonies were clearly beyond her ability to bear them, and that was the great beauty of the chair, for she had no choice but to endure them. She screamed, and when she could find the breath, she begged for a respite. She didn't want them to stop, just to slow down, to let her catch her breath. But that was not what the men desired. They wanted to see her scream until they finally killed her. And after twenty-seven minutes of nearly continuous screams, she finally screamed her last. The smell of cooked meat filled the room, and the three guests of honor had just filled their respective sluts with come. Andy looked at them all, and said, "I have a letter from Keren that she wished me to read to you all after her ride." My dearest Jeanne, Thank you so very much for this. I was afraid after my husband was killed that I would wind up being butchered for parts, or ground into girlmeat. Thank you for giving me this gift, for allowing me to die screaming in horrible agony for the pleasure of a man. I die satisfied, knowing that my screams brought pleasure to your boyfriend and his friends. I can never repay the gift you gave me, but I can give you something in return. I have taken the remains of the insurance settlement I received, and done three things with it. One, I have purchased your carcass back, so that your boyfriend can dine on you, and wear leathers make from your skin, as well as having your head on a trophy mount. Two, I purchased you an extra forty minutes ride, so you will get to scream for his pleasure for at least an hour. Third, I have arranged that the balance be used to buy him a torture and snuff slave, so that for his thirty-first birthday, he won't have to wonder what his present will be. Again, thank you, and it is my fondest wish that you die screaming in even greater agony than me. With all the love I have to offer, I remain, Keren Jeanne was stunned. She looked to her friend's smoldering corpse and cried out, "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Turning to Andy, she added in a smart-ass tone of voice, "I'm ready for my closeup, Mr. de Mille." Andy grinned back at her, and said, "Terrific. However, I need to tell you that I am not going to snip off your clit, like I did for Keren. I have something that will be much more agonising." He held up a cordless drill. However, instead of the drill bit coming to a sharp point, as was typical, it had a flat end. Attached to that end was a square of sandpaper about one cm on a side. "I am going to use this sandpaper to slowly grind your clit off. Girls who have had this treatment have said that it is at least as agonising as their eventual electrocution. I certainly hope so, for your sake." With that, he proceeded to tease her clit erect. He then grabbed a clamp to hold it erect and in place, and fixed the clamp to an attachment on the chair, so that Jeanne would be unable to pull her clit away from the sander. He knelt in front of her, and positioned the drill to be just touching the tip of her clit. He squeezed the trigger, and she howled. It was not a human sound. It was the sound of an animal in agony. To the fuck and suck sluts it was heart-rending, but to the men, it was dick-hardening. Slowly and methodically he proceeded to grind her clit, and her sanity, away. She screamed and howled, but she never cried for respite. Partly because she knew she wouldn't get it, partly because she knew she had volunteered for this, but mostly because the pain had taken her to a zen-like place of no-mind, where all that existed in her universe was pain. She had no capacity for rational thought, she was not human, she was merely a thing that could suffer and scream. For fifteen minutes he ground her clit off, and for fifteen minutes she screamed her head off. Finally it was done. Jeanne continued to sob as Andy walked over to the control console. Her boyfriend looked over at her, as red-headed Kathleen was riding his cock for all she was worth, and said, "Thank you, darling Jeanne. This is the best birthday present I could ever have asked for. I just wanted you to know that I love you, and I am looking forward to seeing you scream your guts out even more than you already have." Through the pain-haze she was still in, Jeanne managed to smile at her boyfriend, and mouth the words, "I love you, too" back at him. Then Andy pushed the button. The effect was immediate. She began to scream again. The men watching had thought her earlier screams, as her clit was slowly ground off, were horrific, but they could not compare to the sounds of agony issuing from her throat as she rode the lightning. She screamed, she howled, she sobbed her agony to her audience. Every time it seemed she had reached the pinnacle of pain, the apex of agony, Andy found a way to kick her suffering up another notch. The men watched, transfixed. Five minutes passed, then ten, then twenty. Somehow Andy kept her screaming for the whole time. Thirty minutes passed. Jeanne's boyfriend had come with a loud shout into Kathleen's tight ass. Jeanne continued to scream. There was not a soft dick in the house. Jeanne screamed a sonata of agony and pain for her boyfriend. She howled and cried, sobbed and screamed, but she got no mercy. Nor did she want any. She wanted to die in the greatest agony she could endure, and Andy was determined to help her achieve that goal. Forty minutes elapsed. Forty-five. Fifty minutes, and still she screamed. If asked, she would have chosen to continue her suffering at that level of intensity forever. She knew her agony was bringing the greatest pleasure imaginable to her boyfriend, and she wished it never had to end. Sixty minutes passed, and still she hadn't been allowed to die. Finally a counter appeared on a display over her head. She couldn't see it, but the men watching her clearly could, and it began to count down from sixty, one second at a time. They all realised that was when she would get the terminal jolt. Judy, Kathleen, and Lisa redoubled their efforts, as they knew that their men would achieve the best possible orgasms if they came as they witnessed Jeanne suffering her final agonies. As the counter hit zero, Jeanne's screams reached a crescendo. The men all reached their climax within seconds of her final death cries. They came as she went. It was beautiful. After the men had had a minute or two to regain their composure, Andy turned to the boyfriend and said, "We're going to be taking the carcasses back to our offices, so we can dispose of Keren, and mount their heads. And if you would like, we'd be happy to process Jeanne for you at not additional charge." "Process? What do you mean, 'process'?" "You know. Skin her and tan her leather, so you have a side of girlskin to make into what you will. Butcher her into various meat cuts (albeit of course pre-cooked). That sort of thing." "Great. Thank you, and thank you," he nodded to Kathleen, "for being such a great fuck-and-suck slut. And of course, thank you, Andy, for providing Jeanne and Keren such prolonged and painful terminations. This has been the best birthday imaginable." "You're welcome. Girls!" The girls began to help him pack and stow all the gear, and to wheel it out to the truck. They quickly had everything cleaned up and loaded. Andy said, "It's been a pleasure. We'll send the heads and other stuff over sometime the week after next. Have a great rest of the weekend." They left. A week and a half later, there was a knock at the door. Standing on the stoop was Kathleen. She said, "Hello, Sir. I brought you the trophy heads," she gestured toward two bowling bags, "as well as Jeanne's girlskin and meat cuts." "Thank you." He brought them in, and when he returned to shut the door, was surprised to see her still standing there. "Remember when Keren said she bought you a torture and snuff slave? I'm her. I hope you're pleased." He was flabbergasted, but also delighted, He couldn't wait for his next birthday.
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